Emotions and Other Distractions
by Kuroi-cho-tsuki-shiro
Summary: Byakuya thinks Rukia is wayward and in need of training; but one training session is enough to make her reconsider who her brother is. A series of shorts based on the story of Bleach from Rukia's point of view. 21
1. Chapter 1

Ukitake had been kind on that first afternoon. He was the opposite, in every respect, of the Sixth Division captain, opening his house to her as if she were an honoured guest. There were paintings on the walls and divans hung with silken drapes. He offered her a cushion, tea and food, and she knelt and listened as he told her about the divisions and how her life would change as a _shinigami. _His _reiatsu, _she suspected, was at least equal to that of her brother, but he kept it in check so skillfully that she was able to overlook his power and speak to him simply as if he were a man offering her a position of employment on his staff.

He asked about her studies, about the time she'd spent at the _Shinoreijtsuin. _She'd learnt not to offer up too many details of her past, but he accepted her foreshortened answers smilingly and told her that she would fit in well with Thirteenth Division.

She returned that night to Byakuya, satisfied that she had made a good impression. A servant took her to the door of his quarters where she knelt and slid back the screen:

"_Nii-sama."_

"Rukia."

"I have been accepted into Thirteenth Division."

"Good. What seat have you been offered?"

"I – oh" – The words turned to dead leaves in her throat and with her next breath, she found herself making the first of many excuses. Because Byakuya, she would discover, had an extraordinary talent for making her apologise: "With my level of training – and I haven't even graduated – They couldn't – I mean, it wouldn't be appropriate for them to offer me the rank of a seated officer."

He had paused over the page of calligraphy he'd been working on as if to give her free rein to stumble over her words. Now though, he resumed:

"Very well then."

"I'm sorry."

"It's late."

That was all the dismissal she would get, she realised. After a moment, she pulled the screen door to, but remained there, breathing hard. She couldn't remember feeling this way before: so angry that she wanted either to scream or cry.

She did neither. She stood up, went back to her room and sat for a long time staring at the sword and uniform.

They were a part of her. The _shihakusho _and the _zanpakuto _were both manifested from a _shinigami's _own soul. Both were inseparable from their physical person. It was one thing to read about these things in a text-book. Quite another to be able to feel them. And she could. She sensed them in the same way that she sensed the souls of living beings, except, with these items there was an element of familiarity not present when she looked at other spirits. Moreover, she could feel her own powers in them. It was like waking and suddenly finding yourself in a different body: one toned, fit and ready for a fight. Her powers had always been there, but, until now, the universe had not given them form.

She stared at them and, after a time, she took up the sword and crossed the room. The weight of the weapon was right. It balanced against her muscles.

The moon leant a dull glow to the paper screens that divided her room from the garden outside. Dreamily, she took her stance, shifting her weight on bare feet. The wooden floor felt warm.

As soon as she stepped into one of the martial art forms she'd learnt at the academy, her body came to life, tingling with awareness. She tensed, concentrating on an imagined point before her. Then swung the sword.

Without a sound, it cut through the paper, catching briefly on the thin slats of wood supporting the screen. But only briefly. These too split, with a soft hiss, as if the blade were sweeping through water. She balanced herself easily on her toes.

The line she had cut was perfectly straight, starting in the top left of the screen and ending in the bottom right. It was clean, almost invisible. And then, as if giving way to chaos, the paper suddenly spilled inwards, torn edges rippling in the evening breeze.

She stepped back, surveying the damage. Beyond the ragged hole she had cut, the nighttime garden was limned with silver. A shaft of moonlight caught the blade she held and she glanced down, her face illuminated briefly in the reflected light.

At least this felt riight. It might be futile: a gesture as empty as it was petty, but right now, the one thing she understood was the sword in her hand.

The _shinigami _she had seen, all those years ago in Rukongai, the one who had knelt and explained to her what made her different from the other children; he had not been a seated officer. Regardless of Byakuya's expectations, she was still a soul reaper now. She had come this far.

By the following afternoon, somebody had mended the torn screen. She didn't see them come and she didn't see them leave, but it was mended just the same. Byakuya never mentioned it.

Back in the early days, if she could have traded her life for just one thing, it would have been a way to irritate that man.


	2. Chapter 2

She had been taken out of the _Shino _early and missed out on nearly two years of her training. She'd barely begun to develop her skills with a sword and had no experience of working as part of a squad. She had excelled in _kido _in the academy, but as soon as she joined the _Gotei, _it became clear that her skills were mediocre at best.

All these things were unacceptable to Byakuya who set up a programme of remedial training. The instructors were dour-faced men who fought like machines and, though they adjusted their styles to match her level, they were capable of enduring hour upon hour of heavy combat.

After nearly two months under her brother's roof, she was mentally and physically exhausted.

The man she was fighting barely pulled his blow as he slammed the _bokken _into her chest, sending her sprawling.

"Get up," he said.

"I'm done."

"Get up."

She rolled onto her side and tentatively ran her fingers from her breasts to her belly just to be sure that all her ribs were still in place. Her body was a mass of bruises. But this was the first time she had tried to call off training early:

"I'm done for today. That's enough."

"We have another hour to complete."

"I can't." She turned her face away as she got to her feet, unwilling to let the man see she was on the verge of losing control. She ached, but, worse than the pain, was the trembling; she didn't trust her muscles to carry her any more. Didn't trust her legs to let her stand or her arms to hold the practice sword_._

"Another hour," said the instructor.

"I can't."

"I am under orders to train you for another hour."

"Then I refuse." She loosened her grip on the _bokken _and let it fall at her feet. She wasn't aware of the other's approach until he spoke:

"You are not at liberty to refuse."

"_Nii-sama!" _She turned.

As ever, his face was unreadable, but she regretted at once that her exclamation had betrayed the mixture of fear and awe she felt towards her brother.

Since beginning this regime, Byakuya had never once shown an interest in her training, but here he stood, dressed in the white _haori _of a captain's uniform, his long hair tamed by the _kenseikan _he wore always to signal his status.

"You are not at liberty to decide when a fight will end unless you have first defeated your opponent."

Rukia stared at him then back at her instructor:

"It's impossible. I'm sorry, Brother."

"Then train until it is possible."

"I can't."

His eyes narrowed:

"Then it will be impossible. You make it so. Where is your sword?" She glanced down with hatred at the _bokken. _She could still feel the impacts in the sinews of her wrist where she had tried to defend herself. Byakuya made a soft sound in his throat: "Where is your katana? Is the blade sound?"

"Of course."

"Show me."

She stared at him for a moment, then stepped over to where she had carefully laid the _zanpakuto _aside to begin her training. She unsheathed the blade and obediently held it up so that he could see. He nodded:

"You will fight until the blade shatters."

"Uh?"

"You talk to me of 'possible' and 'impossible' and I tell you: you can fight until the blade shatters. From the moment it is born, it exists as a reflection of your soul." As he spoke, he unsheathed his own blade and held it out, so that the sunlight flashed briefly on the metal: "It alone tells me what is possible." He moved so quickly she had no time to act. And yet her body reacted. After months of training, her sword intercepted his with no conscious thought or movement on her own part. She caught the flat of her own blade against her left palm and the power of his blow rung down both her arms. "Good." Again, he swung. And again, she defended herself. Backing away. Even holding back, and she did not doubt that he was holding back, those blows fell with a power she could barely comprehend. With each one, she felt the breath knocked from her own body. So she was panting raggedly as she parried. And parried again.

He frowned. Changed the angle of his blade. Feinted left. And she missed the tell-tale change in his posture. In the next instant, he had swung the flat of his blade into her side in a blow that lifted her easily into the air. She crashed to the ground, the impact eliciting a cry of pain. "Quick reflexes mean nothing if you can't fight with your head." She saw his feet approaching through the grass and tried to raise herself. It felt as if all her muscles had turned to water. "Get up."

"I can't."

"You're wrong."

He switched the blade in his hand, and she heard it whistle softly through the air. Her body reacted again without her mind. She twisted and caught his attack near the hilt of her katana. And stared. The sharp edge of his blade was pressing down on her sword. If she hadn't parried, he would have cut her.

"What are you doing?"

"Stand up, Rukia."

"I can't."

Another punishing blow crashed across her sword. She caught it, twisted, and rolled out of his way. He was mad. But she was on her feet now. Two steps on, she fell, her legs inevitably giving in to exhaustion. But for now, her fear overrode the tiredness and she was back on her feet, stumbling into the longer grass beside one of the ornamental pools. He came after her with all the grace and silence of black smoke.

"Take your stance, Rukia." When she failed to defend herself, his blade cut through the edge of her _juban._

"_Hado no san jou san. Sokatsui!" _Desperately, she tried _kido. _He only deflected the fire with his sword and came at her again.

She had come now to the edge of the water and there was nowhere for her to retreat to. She parried his blows until, finally, one hit home, opening up a gash of red in her shoulder. She cried out. He didn't even hesitate. She caught his next attack, and the one after.

"What is it? Are you afraid, Rukia?"

"Why are you doing this?"

"What does it matter? What does it matter right now?"

Tears of pain and exhaustion rolled unchecked down her cheeks. It mattered because she needed to know: had she angered him? More than usual? Did he really hate her so much? He meant to hurt her, but would that be enough? Did he want to leave a scar? Something that would force her to remember? The tip of his blade slashed her right arm. This wound was shallower than the first, but no less painful and her voice broke as she asked:

"Why?"

"It doesn't matter. Concentrate."

She did. She couldn't feel her body anymore. Her muscles were on fire, pushed beyond then limits of her strength. Her movements now came from something else, somewhere else, so it seemed to her that she was standing at a distance, watching the fight. "You have nothing to fear," Byakuya said, in his maddeningly soft voice: "Not because I will not cut you, but because your fear will not help you. Nor will your pain. Nor will your weariness. Nor your anger. Then discard them."

She didn't need to be told anymore. If she so much as acknowledged her body's condition, she knew she would fall to his next blow. She could see herself from afar. Left. Right. He was keeping up a pattern, swinging to one side then the other. He could have ended it in a heartbeat if he'd wanted to, she knew. But he was playing with her.

Playing. Well, perhaps. But she might have found it easier to believe he was enjoying this had his face shown emotion. Any emotion. Anything but that blank, calculating stare.

No. Concentrate. Left. Right.

Instead of parrying the next blow, she feinted and brought her blade in low, under his. She heard his intake of breath. His reflexes were lightning quick and something struck her hard across the jaw, sending her toppling backwards into the shallow water.

She sat up. She'd fallen into water lillies and a few inches of water, but it was still a relief to feel its cold touch lapping about her ankles and hips, quenching burning muscles that immediately began to cramp.

He had stopped. She touched her jaw, expecting blood, but there was only a tenderness that would turn into bruising. He must have struck her with the hilt. Byakuya, standing on the water's edge, was frowning down at his sword hand where a thin stream of blood was coursing into his palm from a cut on his wrist. He looked at his hand, then at her and, in a rare moment of insight, she thought she saw an echo of discomfort in his eyes, brushed aside as quickly as it came. He stepped forward and offered her his left hand: "I did not expect you to cut me."

She stared at it.

After a moment, he let the hand drop to his side: "Anger is a human emotion," he said. Then, when she continued to scowl he added: "Stay there if you will. I would require that you do not disturb the fish unnecessarily though. They are quite sensitive, I find."

As he turned away, she struggled to her feet. As human as it might be, anger was, for now, the only thing keeping her from falling to the ground right there:

"Why?"

"Why?" He looked back at her: "I wanted to show you."

"I know you're stronger than me! I know that! You always will be!"

"Is that what you believe this was about?"

"What else then?"

"You have misunderstood the lesson."

"Whatever you want me to be, I'm not that!"

He turned to face her, his eyes a little wide. He had not, it seemed, expected this. Indeed, for the first time, he seemed genuinely troubled by her reaction:

"Do you understand what you have chosen? This path? The fate of both worlds rests with us and you think it is enough to fight with half your strength? Or a quarter only?" She stared at him, the words sinking in slowly: "The balance. That is what matters. The balance of souls and the laws that govern that balance. That is what we were born for. It is the only reason that souls like ours exist."

"I know, but" –

"Then your anger is a distraction. All your emotions. Put them aside, if this is what you want. They are for the souls in Rukongai, the ones who will circle forever between life and death. Not for you. Clean yourself up," he said, as he turned away.

"Is that what you told your wife?"

"What?"

"That they're just a distraction, your emotions? Fear? Anger? Love maybe?" She shuddered at the venom in her words: "Did you tell her that you never had any intention of being so – human?"

He stared at her. What was that expression? It was so fleeting she couldn't catch it before he turned and started walking away from her. She stared at the white expanse of his back: the flared _haori _and the black number six framed by a diamond between his shoulder blades.

Then she sunk down in the grass with the sword across her knees.


	3. Chapter 3

Salvation came in the form of Juushiro Ukitake, Captain of the Thirteenth Division, who was less than impressed by the deterioration of his subordinate's physical condition. He was a soft-spoken man, but one of very few that Byakuya seemed content to take advice from. When Rukia arrived at her barracks the next day, after Byakuya's unwelcome lesson, she was sporting a purple bruise on her jaw. She completed her first patrol, but skipped lunch because she was running late. When it came to the captain's inspection, she lined up with the others, but, standing there, the room seemed to tighten around her. Darkness licked up her spine and into the back of her head. She was aware of falling, but not of hitting the ground, and then there were blankets around her, warmth, and the familiar smell of her brother's incense. Her head was ringing and she lay absolutely still.

"- But she is still young. I think you forget that, my friend." That was Juushiro's voice. At any other time, she might have been concerned at the presence of her captain, but, for now, she was too exhausted to care. "No doubt that you are right in that she needs to grow stronger to survive in the world of the living, but, for now, her duties are in this world and I need her to be an effective member of my squad."

"I do not want her sent to the World of the Living. Others can do that job."

Rukia rolled onto her side to better hear her brother's voice. He sounded strained: "As to her training, I have the best men under my command."

"You are pushing her too far."

"In your eyes only."

"But that is what matters while she is in my squad, Byakuya-_sama," _he said carefully: "Whatever you believe about the nature of Thirteenth Division, we serve Soul Society as well as any of the other squads. I have people in the world of the living and people here under my command. I can afford to be soft on her no more than you can, but you must trust my judgement."

"And what is your judgement?"

"Leave her training to my men."

"I cannot do that."

Juushiro was silent for a long time and then he spoke carefully:

"Then I want to broker a deal, Kuchiki-_sama. _I want you to let me train her for half the time. Your men, for the other half."

She heard the sound of tea being poured, but Byakuya's silence seemed to flood the room before he said:

"Very well."

"I will ask Kaien Shiba to train her personally."

"Why Shiba?"

"Because there is no better fighter in my squad. However you may perceive Shiba, Byakuya-_sama, _the man is unrivalled with a sword."

"He is rash and he takes risks."

Juushiro chuckled:

"Traits that he does not have in common with your sister." He hesitated: "She has sense, Byakuya-_sama. _Trust her a little more. You never know, she may even turn out to be good for Shiba."


	4. Chapter 4

Beyond the Shrine of Penitence, fighting continued. Rukia could feel the changes in spiritual energy, but it was frustrating, like listening to a whispered conversation. She couldn't pick out individual _reiatsu, _but there was a sense of violence and urgency. It had been going on for too many days now for it to be merely a desperate bid on Ichigo's part. She was sure now that there were others involved. And it wasn't about her anymore. It felt as if there was a war breaking out in the _sereitei._

She crossed to the double doors of the shrine and called out to the guards who she knew must be on the other side:

"Please can you tell me what's happening out there? Please?"

There was a pause and then a gruff voice answered:

"We don't know. All we know is that Abarai Renji was arrested this morning for getting into a fight without the permission of his captain."

"Renji?"

"Yeah."

She swayed back on her heels, staring at the door. A thousand possible scenarios wheeled in her mind. If it was Ichigo and Renji had attacked him, why had he not sought permission from her brother? Byakuya would surely have been only to glad to see the human boy finished off by his deputy. And if it wasn't Ichigo, then who was it? And what had broken the tryst between captain and vice-captain of Sixth Division?

*****************************END OF TRACK 2*******************************************

_From the ghetto, I knew this was hard to hold._

_Like a crash, the whole thing span out of control._

_On a wire, we were dancing:_

_Two kids, no consequences._

_Pulled the trigger, without thinking._

_There's only one way down this road._

_**From "Time Bomb," All Time Low**_

_Immortal fear;_

_That voice, so clear,_

_Through broken walls,_

_That scream, I hear._

_Cry, little sister._

_Thou shalt not fall._

_Thou shalt not fight._

_Thou shalt not fear._

_**From "Cry Little Sister," Gerard McMann**_


	5. Chapter 5

**If you enjoyed this story, please check my profile page for the next one.**

**If I have put this message up it means that the story will continue in a separate installment, which I upload immediately after posting this. So, don't worry, the story will continue…..**

**All my thanks and appreciation to those who have (bravely) signed up to be emailed my alerts every four days:**

**Shadewolf7, Truantpony, ForbiddenME, Pinky357, Immortal Vows, Chellythemadhatter, Insomniatic95, Sallythedestroyerofworlds23, UNTensaZangetsu, XDark FangsX, Superlynx, Ichigo(dot)forever(dot)love, Ennaalemap, Makaykay15, Kaze05, Splash into Forever, War90, Yellowwomanonthebrink, Bakane, Night Flower and Hallmarktrinity**

**And everyone else who is reading and reviewing. Honestly, thanks.**

**Frequently Asked Questions**

Erm, well, these aren't always "frequently" asked. Just a few questions I've received…..

**Do you always thank people for their reviews?**

In honesty, no. But before you tell me off, the reason is this: years ago I used to post fiction on a site where the policy was to always return reviews. I assumed this site was the same, so, if you review me, I will always check out your writing. If it is Bleach (okay, I admit it – so far I only read Bleach on this site) I will read it and leave a review. I figure most writers prefer a review to a simple thank you as it shows a little more personal attention has been paid. If you haven't received a review in about a day, please feel free to message me a reminder. If the site is glitchy, I sometimes try to leave one and can't.

**Why do you write sometimes as if Rukia hates Byakuya?**

Sorry if it seems a bit OOC. Remember that a lot of these scenes are pretty distant flashbacks and, of all the relationships, I think that theirs is the one that changes the most. Also, Rukia might say she hates him, but feel free to question whether that is actually the case.

**Why did this chapter say "end of track 2" at the end?**

I'm writing the Soul Society arc and I felt it divided up fairly neatly into a number of different parts based vaguely upon Rukia's words as she is about to be executed, where she thanks all the people in her life. So the different 'tracks' each focus largely on one person in her life: Ichigo, then Renji, then Kaien. I've called them 'tracks' because each is titled after a song (titles can be seen on my profile) and there is a musical theme running through the whole thing; hence the lyrics posted at the end of each track. I tend to be very inspired by music.

**When does it end?**

It is the Soul Society arc, so you can kind of guess where it finishes! I think in terms of the anime, it is the end of the third series, episode 63. Yes, there will be a total of 63 stories. I estimate that it will all be uploaded by autumn 2012 (maybe). I'll consider sequels thereafter. (Someone asked me if I would be writing what happened during the timeskip. Maybe, but by that point this may have become my life's work! Thank you for your faith in me!) What I will say is that if you have read it from the beginning there are a few scenes much later on that should make you go "oohhhh, I get that now."


End file.
